


The Winter of 1900

by KittyHawke



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Flashbacks, Fluff, Headcanon, Joe is sick but there is no angst, M/M, Orange juice is held in very high regard, Sickfic, it's just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:49:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyHawke/pseuds/KittyHawke
Summary: The team have a tradition of drinking orange juice in cold places. Nile wants to know why.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 22
Kudos: 223





	The Winter of 1900

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was born from sharing headcanons with my friend and I loved the idea so much that I wanted to write it. I figure that immortality allows people to revive from fatal diseases with no ill effects, but what about a more banal illness? And then it developed into an ode to orange juice, because really, illness hasn't touched me since I started drinking it and I have great faith in its protective powers. That definitely makes itself known here.
> 
> Joe pushing Nicky out of bed is based on a post I saw on Tumblr which I've always found adorable. You might recognise it. Anyway, I give credit for that away to the person who wrote it.
> 
> Enough talking from me. I hope you enjoy reading.

_2020_

“I would rather have a hot drink” Nile said, looking dubiously at the glass of orange juice set in front of her.

“Sorry kid, it’s a team rule that we all drink orange juice on cold weather missions” Andy said.

“Why?”

“To defend against colds” Nicky answered.

Nile frowned at him. “Why would you guys worry about colds?” she asked.

“It’s one of the few things our immortality can’t protect us against” Joe explained, with the world-weary tone of one who had discovered this first-hand.

“It is not deadly enough to kill and let the body heal, so we have to suffer through it like everyone else” Nicky added.

Nile didn’t lose the confused look on her face. “But it’s a common cold. Why would you have special measures against that and not anything deadly? Surely a disease that could kill would be more likely to mess up the operation.”

Andy chuckled quietly as she screwed the top off a bottle of whiskey. “A disease that can kill is over quickly. We’re not used to pain for an extended period of time. At least they aren’t,” she added, pointing the bottle at the guys. “So believe me, a cold can mess up the operation.”

“We’ve been there” Nicky admitted.

Nile looked at him and then leaned her elbows on the table curiously.

**

_1900_

Nicky puffed a deep breath as he stepped into the house, warm air meeting his frozen lungs with a pleasant shock. He divested himself of the coat, hat, scarf and gloves that were necessary to go outside for more than three seconds and knelt down in front of the roaring fire in the hearth. It was a delight to feel the fans of heat against his face and hands.

“How is he?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Andy.

Andy had called them up for a job in Norway, and they had failed to account for how much of a shock the sudden transition from Malta to the Arctic Circle would be. The mission had been completed successfully, but illness had crept up on Joe in the past few days and now had him firmly in its grip.

“He was asleep when I checked on him” she said.

He smiled at her gratefully. There was little call for nursing in their family. Generally anyone who caught an illness was put to bed and left alone until they recovered or died, to avoid infecting anyone else. That was the way Andy and Booker and even he liked it, but Joe was distressed at suffering in isolation and Nicky had spent the past few days by his bedside. His trip to the shop for more supplies had been the first time he’d left his love for an extended period of time, and he’d asked that Andy or Booker put their head around the door to make sure Joe didn’t feel alone.

He got to his feet and brought his purchases into the kitchen, putting them away in the appropriate cupboards. He would see how Joe was feeling first and then make him some soup.

The room was in darkness, blackout curtains drawn to block the piercing afternoon sun outside. Joe was still sleeping and Nicky’s heart melted at the sight of him. The cold caused him to make little snuffling sounds as he dozed and even those caused a swell of affection towards this wonderful man he called his own.

“Joe?” he whispered, crossing the room. He gently put a hand on Joe’s shoulder and was surprised when he was shoved back with remarkable force.

“No, I’m married” Joe mumbled, still asleep. Nicky blinked and then grinned, putting a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“Joe, it’s me. It’s Nicky.”

He tried again, not even getting so far as touching Joe before he was politely pushed aside.

“No thank you” his beloved said kindly, letting the amorous stranger of his dreams down gently.

Nicky had to swiftly step away and cackle into his hands. Oh Lord, Joe was adorable when he was ill. It was a terrible thing to think and of course he hated to see his love suffer, but Joe came out with such funny phrases and it made nursing him a joy.

When he had finally gathered himself, Nicky returned to the bed and knelt down, stroking the curls spread over the pillow like a dark halo. “Joe, my love,” he said in Arabic. “It’s Nicky. I’m back.”

Joe’s eyes finally opened, watery and streaked with red. A spark of joy shone through the misery at the sight before him. “Nicky!” he said, as enthusiastically as a man brought low by illness could.

“Hi.” Nicky smiled brightly. All these centuries and Joe could still make him weak at the knees. “Did Andy check on you?”

“I think so,” Joe said. “Yes, I remember seeing her. I thought it was a dream.”

“How do you feel, love?”

“Miserable.”

He tsked sympathetically. “I bought some soup. Do you feel able to eat?” he asked.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” He kissed Joe’s forehead and stood up. “I’ll make you some soup. That will help you feel better.”

“Thank you, Nicky. Can I have a blanket for my neck?”

He looked back. “A blanket for your neck?”

Joe nodded solemnly. “My neck is cold. I need a blanket to make it feel better.”

He was currently lying under three blankets and, short of taking Andy or Booker’s duvet, Nicky wasn’t sure where to find another. Nevertheless Joe was gazing at him so earnestly and Nicky would walk back out in the snow to buy a blanket if it allowed him to fulfil this request.

“I’ll get you a blanket for your neck” he promised.

He walked back out to the living room, immediately setting his eyes upon the tartan blanket that Booker was wearing as he listened to the radio. Only his head protruded from the top.

“Can I take that?” Nicky requested.

“No” Booker replied without turning his head.

“Joe needs it.”

“This is the last blanket in this house with no germs on it. The rest of us get cold too.”

So saying, Booker gripped the blanket and demonstratively tugged it up to his neck.

“You are not being helpful” Nicky accused.

“I have tried to be helpful, but you won’t let me.”

“I will not let you kill Joe over a cold.”

“It would be a mercy killing, for us as well as him. He’s suffering. We’re all suffering. It would be so quick.”

“If you go near him, I will put your hand in a meat grinder.”

Andy raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. Booker waved a hand and sank further down the armchair, so that his head was no longer visible.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be going near either of you until you’ve been disinfected” he said. Nicky rolled his eyes and continued to the kitchen. He put a saucepan on the hob and poured a can of chicken soup into it.

“Wow, are you planning to feed a village?” Andy asked, coming in behind him and taking note of the many cans now residing in their cupboards.

“He needs lot of strength. Soup helps, so the more the better, right?”

“Still no improvement?” she asked sympathetically.

He shook his head. “Still none. He’ll be fine.”

Andy rubbed his shoulder affectionately. “Take care of yourself too,” she said. “Booker’s only being a brat. He’ll let you have the blanket.”

Nicky couldn’t help thinking that sounded more like a promise than a prediction, and he smiled at the soup.

Sure enough when he was ready to return to the bedroom with a bowl of soup and three glasses – one containing orange juice, one water and one salt water for gargling – Booker wordlessly handed the tartan blanket over and shifted to sit on the floor in front of the fire.

Joe pulled himself up against the headboard when the door opened. “Thank you, hayati. Oh, that’s so much” he remarked, staring at the tray placed before him.

“Try to eat as much as you can. The salt water is for gargling to help your sore throat,” Nicky explained. “I brought your blanket.”

He reached around and carefully tucked it in on either side of Joe’s neck, so that he was wearing it almost as a shawl.

Joe looked at him with his watery eyes shining. “It feels better already,” he declared. “You’re a wonderful nurse.”

Nicky grinned and tried not to look as flattered as he felt. “Only for you.”

He rounded the bed and sat down next to Joe, smoothing his hand over the curls, and smiling at the appreciative sigh he received.

“I preferred the plague” Joe said.

“No, you didn’t. It was awful.”

“It killed quickly and then it was over,” he protested. “This is never-ending.”

Nicky felt his mood sour as he thought of what Booker had said. “It’s only been a few days, Joe. It will get better on its own. It’s just a common cold,” he said sternly. “You can’t use dying as an escape hatch from everything.”

“What are the chances…?” Joe began.

“Too high,” Nicky cut him off. “I will not remember you as the man who fought countless wars and was defeated by a sore throat.”

Joe chuckled weakly and Nicky smiled, feeling like he’d won a small victory.

“War cannot keep us apart, but a runny nose can” Joe complained. Nicky giggled and leaned in, dropping a kiss on his temple.

“I have to stay healthy to take care of you, love” he said soothingly

“I am weak in strange ways, habibi,” Joe sighed, resting against him. “Whole armies cannot defeat me, but a few days without a kiss from you and I wither into nothing.”

“You old romantic” Nicky murmured into his hair.

“Less of the old. I’m only three years older than you.”

“Ah, but those three years matter when you want to pull the ‘I am your elder’ card, hm? You can’t have it both ways.”

Joe laughed and then coughed, forcing Nicky to release him and move away. “Eat some soup, drink and then rest, alright?”

“Alright,” Joe sighed, with the air of a man who had given up on life. “I love you, Nicolo. You are truly my moon, my light in all of this darkness.”

Every time Nicky thought he couldn’t love this man any more, he was surprised. He leaned down over the bed.

“You are my sun,” he replied, stroking a finger over Joe’s cheek. “Right now your rays are dimmed by clouds, but they won’t be for long. In the meantime I am here to provide whatever light I can.”

Joe gazed at him with such open adoration that Nicky had to tear himself away and leave the room, or he would have betrayed all his good intentions and given into the burning temptation to just kiss his love.

The evening passed in the same manner as it had for the previous four – Nicky splitting his time between the living area and the bedroom, making enough soup to feed a family, Joe calling out when he had fever dreams, Booker once again making his generous offer of assistance and Andy shaking her head although she understood his logic, and finally bedtime.

Nicky slept on the floor of the bedroom. It was more of a symbolic separation, but he couldn’t bring himself to sleep out in the living room. Poor Joe’s dreams could veer from pleasant to frightening in seconds and he needed Nicky to reassure him and send him back to sleep.

The next morning he woke up shivering. As soon as he sat up, he felt the muscles in his shoulders seize and his teeth start chattering. Joe was still asleep and Nicky crept out of the room, taking his coat from the stand by the door and putting it on.

“Cold?” Andy asked. She was already boiling water in the kitchen.

Nicky nodded and sat down on the sofa, idly rubbing at his nose and sniffing.

“I’ll light the fire” Andy said. She came into the room and filled the bottom of the hearth with coal, added logs on top, and finally tore up some newspapers to get it started. As the flame burned its way through the kindling, she looked over at Nicky and then smiled brightly.

“Hello,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Joe replied. “I was starting to feel very bored just lying in bed.”

Andy met Nicky’s eye, grinning triumphantly, and he raised a smile in return. What a difference this made from the past few days when Joe could barely be roused to use the bathroom. He was happy to know that the rays of his sunlight were moving from behind the clouds.

Joe came around the sofa and sat down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Thank you for taking such good care of me, tesoro” he said.

“I was happy to” Nicky answered. He could feel how his throat scratched and his voice came out with a croak, and hoped against hope that it was merely thirst.

“Nicky’s taken your illness away” Andy said.

“Nicolo,” Joe’s face fell, his eyes filled with sorrow and guilt. “Oh, habibi. I’m so sorry. You were so good to me and this is how I repay you.”

“I’ll be fine” Nicky said, forcing the words through his teeth. The warmth from the fire was starting to make its way into the room, but the heat merely sat on his skin. It refused to absorb into his bones.

“I’ll take good care of you in return. We have lots of soup left. I’ll make you better” Joe pledged.

Even through the shivers racking his body, a swoop of gratitude briefly warmed his heart. He had no doubt that Joe would do everything to make him comfortable. He was a natural caretaker, far better than any of them, and Nicky felt so lucky to have this sweetheart for a husband.

“Take care of yourself too” he insisted. Joe was still newly recovered and neither of them wanted this to be passed back and forth.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Just some water would be nice” he said. Joe immediately jumped up to fetch it.

“See, I knew this would happen,” Booker declared, having appeared in the room without their notice. “Forget about it. You can contact me when there’s another job to do. I’m not staying here and taking my turn.”

Andy got up and followed him, halting him as he was reaching for the door.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “All of us are going to be drinking orange juice every day to ward this off, and the second Nicky feels better, we’re getting out of this frozen hellhole and going someplace warm.”

She turned to Joe as he walked back in. “I’ll help you get the bed ready.”

“You’re right.” Joe gave the water to Nicky and kissed his head. “I have to change the sheets and then you can sleep, okay? It won’t take long.”

Nicky nodded, trying not to grimace at the pain of swallowing. At least Booker hadn’t left yet, although he remained hovering at a distance.

“The offer still stands” he remarked.

Nicky smiled slightly. “Ask me in a day or two.”

Booker chuckled at that. “Do you know what’s great for killing cold? Whiskey. I’ve never had an illness that lasted more than a day with this stuff in me.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

His eyes were growing heavy when Joe returned, gently guiding him back to bed and tucking him in under the small pile of blankets, with Nicky still wearing his coat. He closed his eyes and let his mind empty as a hand stroked through his hair. This was nice. Even though his eyes and throat stung and he felt uncomfortably cold, he was cognizant enough to enjoy this treatment. The worst would be over soon, and when it was, he might take a little longer to bask in Joe’s tender loving care before declaring himself cured. 

**

_2020_

“So basically you two had man-flu” Nile declared. Andy hid her smile behind the bottle.

Joe opened his mouth and then closed it again. “It feels a lot worse when you’re not used to it” he said at last.

Nile smiled and shook her head. “I get it. Nobody likes the cold and this is Russia in November. If this works, let’s do it” she said, and tossed the glass back.

“It works. We haven’t had any illnesses since we started doing it” Nicky remarked proudly.

“Small cup of orange every morning with breakfast works wonders. You should try it” Joe said.

Nile nodded thoughtfully. Stepping off the plane in Novosibirsk had been an unpleasant shock to the system. Both Joe and Nicky giving her an extra blanket for her bed, without being asked, had been ominous. Andy promising a long drive and a long night tomorrow, waiting for the right moment to catch their target in a crowd, had led her to decide that she would try anything that would spare her from pneumonia.

The Russian winter had seen off some of the most famous armies in history, and they were going up against it armed with orange juice. It was amusing really, but if they said it worked, she was willing to give it a chance.

"Maybe I will."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you. Please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed and have a nice day.


End file.
